Speaking the Language

Have you ever read The Five Love Languages, by Gary Chapman? The premise is that each person gives and receives love primarily in one of five "languages": words of affirmation, quality time, gift giving, acts of service, and physical touch. I've read the book a few times, and I think it has a lot of helpful ideas for people to get more in-tune with their loved ones. I have always had a hard time nailing down my primary love language; it seems to fluctuate between words of affirmation, quality time, and gift giving. I know, however, that it is not acts of service, and it it NOT physical touch. Don't get me wrong, I love hugs as much as the next person, but I need my personal space... especially when I am pregnant, or post-partum, or in pain, or too hot, or upset... in other words, whenever I don't feel perfect.

So who does God decide to grant me as my eldest son? That's right, the little boy who knows no boundaries. If possible, Max would be attached to me in some way every moment of every day. For him, a hug is not enough- he has to smoosh his face into my face as he grabs the back of my head and squirms as close to me as he can. I really don't mind it...mostly. But there are times when a momma just wants to keep her face to herself!

The latest struggle has been with Audrey. Max adores her. But when Max adores someone or something, they are in real danger of being smothered. We have told him again and again to be careful how close he gets to her, or how tightly he squeezes her. A few days ago, she was lying on the floor when he knelt next to her and started baby talking as he smooshed his face into hers for the umpteenth time. "Max!" I snapped in frustration, "Get your face off of her!"

 "But that's how I love her!" he replied.

As if we ever questioned what his love language was.